Conversations 06

06 - Bull

*****

Quick writer's note:

Tags for this story: btb, Revenge, Consequences

This is a BTB (Burn the Bastard) story. Other subjects mentioned; Drug use, prostitution, and offensive names/language. This one is on the darker side.

This is another installment in an ongoing series of conversations among lovers or former lovers and their families. Conversations 06 - Bull introduces us to a new character who attempts to set the record straight.

We may see more of Bull in the future; I think he has an interesting story.

I want to thank my editors for their collaboration and advice. The story is a better one because of them. Charlie, John, Demosthenes384bc, KenD, The Hoary Cleric, and HighLuster all contributed.

I love collaborating with people, so I look forward to expanding the editing team. If you're interested in being a part of our team, please send me your email address through private messaging, and I'll shoot you, my stories.

I spent the better part of an hour watching the sleazeball from the rear of the pub. None of the furtive drug deals and his cheesy pick-up attempts went unnoticed by me. It's hard for me to imagine that any of his game ever works. My pulse quickens as it looks like he's ready to leave. I slip out the back door and wait for my quarry patiently in the dark.

The plastic grip of my weapon is warm to the touch. It was tucked under my shirt, nestled against my extended belly for the past hour, which has warmed it. I consider its heft, feeling its muzzle-forward weight. It's comfortable in my hand.

I hear him. Shuffling his feet, splashing through the puddles. His elongated shadow approaches my hiding spot, darkened earlier when I broke the bulb. I heard him mumbling something about whores and sluts.

"Can't believe I have to go home and fuck that strung-out bitch. I need to find some better pussy. What a waste ..." I caught him mid-sentence. I love the sound the projectiles make when they explode out of the end of my liberated police issue taser gun. The spikes embedded themselves in the center of his back. They barely separated; the two-foot distance didn't give them time.

He convulsed, locking his body in a grotesquely deformed sissonne. Of course, Jules used to perform them flawlessly at her recitals. That seems so long ago when she and Joey were growing up together. As he completed his best ballet leap onto the graveled alleyway, the paralysis in Hunter's left hand snapped his freshly lit cigarette. He grunted, and his body spasmed as he unsuccessfully tried not to piss himself.

I'm in no hurry to let off the voltage. I wanted him compliant and harmless. I released the trigger, ceasing the electricity flowing through his muscles. Before he fully recovered, I landed on his back and pressed my right knee between the shoulder blades, pinning him to the rocks. Air escaped his lungs. Grabbing his right arm first, I moved quickly to cuff it before retrieving the left, thus immobilizing the prick. He's about to get some long-overdue justice.

With practiced ease, I exposed the inside of his right elbow, slipping the rubber surgical tubing just above it to create an effective but temporary tourniquet. The vessels revealed themselves visibly, and I inserted the needle. Drawback blood was the evidence that I was in the vein. Then pushed the now pink fluid into him. Releasing the tubing, I stood to survey both ends of the alley; Still clear, I think as I look down at my newly minted victim.

I've used injectable Valium many times. It's effective at putting my target out quickly. I just hope I calculated the dosage correctly. I had a hell of a fight on my hands the last time I used it because I misjudged my prey, who awoke before I was ready. I was determined it wasn't going to happen this time. I watched as the warmth of the drug took his body over. His eyes closed, and he relaxed into the dirt. I stowed the needle and syringe. Who says fanny packs aren't useful? Not me!

Then, I disconnected the wires from the taser, placed it next to the syringe in my pack, and zipped the bag closed. I moved Hunter into a sitting position. Kneeling, I hefted him over my shoulder and into a modified fireman's carry. I'm not as young or fit as I once was. At forty-seven, these guys are getting heavy. I stood to my full six-foot-three height, raising Hunter to an uncomfortable distance from the ground. Good thing he's sleeping like a baby.

I walked him the thirty yards to my SUV, wishing I didn't have such an expansive gut and that I worked on my cardio more. Breathing hard and with beads of sweat running down my face, I placed him inside. I took one last sweep of the alley, and off we went.

I watched the man slowly wake up; his muddled mind was returning to consciousness. His eyes fluttered, then strained to see in the dark. I saw he was confused, partly because of the recreational drugs, the booze, and the electrical charge he endured, but mainly because of the Valium.

I like this part the best, as my captive starts to realize that their evil ways have brought them here. More pointedly, their evil ways have brought me to them. They were all evil, hell, even I'm evil. The difference is that most of my victims inflict their evil on other evil people. But not Hunter. He decided to take something pure and lovely and destroy it for his own gain. I'm here to make sure he pays the price for that.

He doesn't notice me. Using the nearby commercial crab pots as leverage, he pulled himself to an unsteady upright position. His left hand was cuffed to the top pot, which was precariously positioned on the stack.

"Be careful, you shake that too hard, and you'll put an early end to our night together," I say in a jovial tone. He knows he's fucked. I don't have to be a prick about it; I just enjoy it.

He spun around, placing his back against the stack of pots. We were facing each other. "Who the fuck are you?" The stack shifted a little from his movement.

"Slow down, Hunter," I started to warn him again when he interrupted.

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!?" Spittle leaps from his chapped lips, "Do you know who I am? You are so fucked. Let me go right now!"

I love it when they're frustrated. The devil in me likes to tease them at this point, "Hold on now, that's a lot of questions. Which do I answer first?"

His eyes are adjusted to the dim light from a lone bulb attached to the top of the pier piling. Using his right hand, he attempts to free his left.

"I said be careful; you'll go over." I do love to tease the doomed. It's like flirting with a pretty girl without sex at the end. Though sometimes, the climax is almost as satisfying.

He's succumbed to the realization that he's screwed. Looking at me, "Who are you?"

"My name is Bull," I launch into my explanation, "In my twenties, I was called that because I was stubborn and bullheaded. In my thirties, it was because I was crass and destructive, like a bull in a china shop. Now in my forties, it's because I'm mostly full of old stories and bullshit. Not sure how I'll explain it in a few years. Maybe, in my fifties, I will say it's because I'm wise like the old bull on the farm. What do you think?"

I can tell my name doesn't mean anything to him, so I feign hurt and pout at his confused look. He's exasperated now, "Do you know who I am and whom I work for?"

"Most definitely. You are Hunter Lewis, a low-life drug dealer for the Scallion family. They are fully aware of you being here and why." He has no idea that I wouldn't risk taking him out without getting permission first. The privilege cost me ten thousand dollars, but I consider it a hell of a bargain.

"No way! When he finds out what you're doing, Carmine will cut your balls off!" He puffed with pride for a moment, like he had the upper hand. "I'm going to laugh when he holds your old bald ass down and cuts off your pecker!"

I couldn't help but let out a full belly laugh. "Wow, that's hurtful. I have no control over genetics." I ran a hand over the stubble on top. I've been using the trimmer without a guard since I was forty-two. I was developing that cul-de-sac look. "I thought the shaved look was in," I told him, acting as though this puke could hurt my feelings. "Anyway, Carmine told me that I could do whatever I wanted to you as long as I made it public. Guess he doesn't like that you've been shorting him his profits." That part was true. Carmine knew he was being shorted, but it wasn't enough to make a difference. I guess he saw it as an opportunity to make an example to the others since he was making a profit on this turd's torture anyways.

"Is that why you're here? Did Carmine send you?" I could see the worry on his face.

"No, my boy, tonight is personal." I was done flirting. He gave me a confused look.

"Do you want to tell me about Jules Newsome?" His head perked up, and he looked directly at me.

"Jules is my wife; her name is Jules Lewis. What about her."

"Tell me how you met her?" Watching him squirm, I dragged my right hand through my graying goatee.

"What's to tell? We went to school together, and now we are married." Wow was he ever dense!

I pulled my phone out and pulled up a picture of a beautiful young blonde, holding it out for Hunter to see, making sure I was clear of his radius. "Who's this?"

"YOU STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER!" even in the low light, I could see his red face.

"Want me to tell you who she is?" I acted as if I cared for a split second, "Let's see, this is sweet Annie Lewis. Twenty-five years old, graduated early from high school at seventeen. College at twenty-one, and tomorrow she graduates from pharmacy school with a doctorate." I looked at her photo again. "Wow, that's impressive. Tomorrow, she attends her white coat ceremony. Tonight, she's out partying with girlfriends at Club Revolution." I pulled up a text message showing a photo of her at the club.

"Planning on a big shindig for your little sister?" It was a rhetorical question, but I watched his face for a reaction. He stayed stoic. Maybe that was his panic or fear look; I couldn't decide.

"A friend of mine is watching her right now. She's in jeopardy of meeting the same fate as Jules. So, I'm asking you once again, tell me about how you met Jules."

His body slumped as if I gut-punched him.

"I knew Jules in school. She married some punk after we graduated. I reconnected with her at a club a couple of years ago. She was out with a bachelorette party for a friend."

"Go on, I know there's more." He was defeated.

"All right, just don't hurt Annie, please." He was accommodating now. "I know what you want to know. I slipped a rufie into Jules's drink, took her to a motel, and videoed us having sex. I enjoyed having her, so I started blackmailing her into fucking me on and off. I liked the idea of getting something over on her pussy husband and making her do things she found disgusting, more or less of her own free will."

"What else," I asked coldly as possible.

"She didn't want it, but I started shooting her up. Eventually, she got hooked on heroin. It took a while, but ultimately, she started having horrific withdrawals from the drug." There was no shame in him at all. He almost seemed proud of what he was able to accomplish. "So, I held back the drugs one day till she promised to let me get her pregnant. Once she got her stash for the week, she would refuse to get rid of her birth control. I started to give her less each time and forced her to fuck me more often. One of the times, when I was fucking her in her home, I made her throw away her pills before I gave her the stuff." Rubbing his cuffed wrist, the dirtbag was taking his time telling me his story. The story of how he destroyed one of the most precious women I knew.

"I convinced her to make hubby wear condoms when they fucked, not that it was that often. I think little hubby knew something was wrong, but not what. She would beg me not to make her shoot up, to let her go and try to get back to a normal life. By then, she was so fucked up, I kind of liked seeing little miss prissy naked on her knees, strung out begging me to let her go, of course, why would I?" He stifled a low chuckle, enjoying the mental picture he was creating.

"So, I started her on meth. It was cheaper for me to get, and she stopped shooting up."

"You traded one addiction for the other?" He nodded, "And you started trying to get her pregnant?"

"Yep."

"Why? you had everything you wanted." As long as I live, I'll never fully understand what motivates these sick punks.

"All during school, her future hubby was so proud of his sweet innocent girlfriend. I really wanted to destroy them. To break them up for good. To make him think of her as nothing more than a worthless drug-addicted meth whore!"

This fuck was proud of what he did. I got pissed enough for my face to flush with hate. My fingers trailed the butt of the forty-five I kept in my waistband. The thought of putting a round in his forehead sounded very appealing now. Dammit, Bull, don't let him get to you! Stick to the plan.

"So, it was always your plan to turn her into what she is today?" I decided not to keep the disgust from my tone.

"No, not really. I found that I actually loved her and enjoyed how submissive she became. It got to where she gave up and never even resisted me. Her husband wasn't fucking her, so she would be really horny when I came to see her. It was a lot of fun." That sick smile on his face was almost the end of him. "Then she told me that she was pregnant. As proud as I was, I knew it was killing her. When she started to show, I made her tell her hubby that it wasn't his and how much of a drug whore she'd become. He tried to save her, but I took her away for the weekend. By the time I brought her back, he was gone.

"Now she's practically useless to me because she's hooked on meth so bad. She sits at home all day and smokes her shit. If it weren't for our daughter, I would turn her out as a whore!" He straightened his spine like he had a chance of taking me. "Is that what you wanted to know?"

"That's exactly what I wanted to know. You took a beautiful young woman and destroyed her life. For what? A piece of ass?"

"Not just that, I had always had a thing for her, and she never gave me the time of day. So, when I had the advantage, I pushed it. The idea of making her my wife appealed to me." I had hoped to see regret in his eyes, but there was none. "Why, are you related to her?"

I scoffed at him, "In a way. You remember Joey Newsome?" There it was. The recognition finally clicked.

"Yeah, he was that worthless faggot she was married to before I hooked her on my big cock."

I laughed again. "Dude, you're hung like a bull gnat. You couldn't get your own hand hooked on your little pee-pee." I smiled at my own metaphors, "Joey was my wife-stealing brother's kid. He happened to be my favorite relative." I added a Shatner pause to increase the dramatic effect. Then I continued.

"I watched Joey and Jules grow up. My wife didn't want kids, so I would spend extra time with my nephew. Jules was the little girl next door who didn't have a daddy, so we included her in our adventures." Now it was my turn to reminisce about better times. Those two eight-year-olds, the trips to the zoo, the aquarium, and whatever else caught their attention; I loved it. Of course, I had no way of knowing that while I was entertaining his kid, my brother was entertaining my wife. Calm down, dummy. You're about to lose your shit!

"Then, when they started dating, I made sure Joey had cash for dates. I let him borrow my old Caddy. Both became my adopted kids. I did the things that a father should do for his offspring. Maybe more.

"On the other hand, my brother is almost as big a piece of shit as you are. I was the one who did the baseball games, the dance recitals, and whatever else that mattered. With both kids, all of the daddy things fell to me." I paused as those old emotions swelled inside of me, it took me a second to control them and stuff them back into their little compartment, then I continued.

"I enjoyed all of it. I was ready for my own kids, but my wife, Janet, had other ideas, and I wasn't included; John and Janet ran off together. It got worse. My worthless family treated me as an outcast. They stopped inviting me to holidays and basically forgot all about me." It was a low time in my life because we were a tight-knit family, so it really hurt me when I was ostracized. But I understood that John was the head of our little family, and everyone relied on him for their livelihood. If they hadn't backed him, they would have lost more than just me.

"Joey and Jules never gave up on me nor forgot me. It ticked Joey's dad and new stepmom off big time when they invited me to Thanksgiving each year, not them. They made sure to treat me like family when the rest of the worthless fucks sided with John and the cunt he ran off with." I was getting pissed just remembering how my own brother plotted against me to steal my wife, my one true love. "But that's a longer story for another time. Just know that he and I will have this same conversation one day." Though young Hunter will never get to hear it.

"What happened to Joey?" I asked my new friend. He looked panicked.

"The punk shot himself two years ago. He couldn't stand losing his wife to the better man." He almost sounded proud of himself.

"I believe it was fifteen months ago when Jules told him she was carrying your baby," I remembered the happy, gentle boy I knew fondly. He was always so good to me. "He put a thirty-eight in his mouth and pulled the trigger. I'm guessing that's why you didn't need a divorce for Jules when you forced her to marry you to keep her drug supply intact."

"So, what? Are you going to kill me now? Over that punk?"

"Oh no, Mister Lewis, you will be so racked with guilt and pain that you will commit suicide." I laid it out as plainly as I could.

"I would never do that! Fuck you, old man. That's a big FUCK YOU!" he yelled, laughing at me.

"Remember Annie?" I could see his face drop, "My friend is watching her right now. If you don't join the fishes in about fifteen minutes, he'll slip sweet little Annie the same drug you used on Jules." I let that sink in for a moment. "Do you know Jimmy Two Spades?"

"Yes." His voice was strained. I think he might have figured out where this was going.

"Who is he?"

"He's a pimp. He gets his girls strung out on drugs, then has them turn tricks for him."

"That's right, and he's waiting for young Annie. If you choose yourself over her, my friend will drug her and turn her over to Jimmy. You know how that story ends, don't you?"

"What about Jules and my baby?" I think he finally saw the end in sight.

"Right now, Jules's grandparents are picking her up and taking her to a great detox center I found, and they are going to look after their nine-month-old great-granddaughter while she's there." I cleared my throat, building the suspense, "She'll get help to fight the addiction. She never deserved what you did to her. This is happening no matter what you do. I have a couple of friends who are helping her." I pulled up another photo that showed two huge thugs in his house with her grandparents and Jules. "By the way, they can't wait for their turn with Annie. Tiny has a thing for anal. Of course, his girlfriends don't care for it at first." I whispered to Hunter.

Hunter slumped against the pots and hung from his left wrist.

I held up his phone, "I typed out a nice goodbye email for everyone. It explains how guilty you feel for what you did to Jules and how you are responsible for Joey taking his life. All you have to do is push the send button." I slid the phone towards him.